Mark of Shame
by Gemakai
Summary: Currently a one shot deal, this fic expresses the thoughts of what is going through the Elite destined to become the Arbiter before he's donned the title.


Mark of Shame

Disclaimer: I don't own Halo 2, nor do I own anything, anytime, or anywhere...so ha!

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The Armor

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My body ached...My head swelled with agony...and my hands were blistered with the plasma our bindings were made of. In a single phrase, my body felt like hell.

"How much longer must we bear this garbage?" One of the Brutes dragging me along complained. They were so strong; I would think that a single Elite like myself wouldn't be too much trouble. Stupid giant balls of fur, I thought of them, can't even make it down High Charity to get front row seats to my execution. They should at least earn it like we Elites would've. "Can't we just throw him in any one of these cells? Anyone would do!"

"Why not throw him in this one?" The other Brute snarled, referring to a cage full of rabid Jackals, scratching and hissing at us as we passed by. "They could use the meat."

"What about us?" The first complained yet again, "My belly Aaaches!" He growled in an aggravated tone. "And his flesh is seared just the way I like it." I could practically imagine him just diving at that moment and begin to devour me, but then again, he would have to face the wrath of the Hierarchs.

"Quiet!" The corpulent white Brute in front shouted, trudging along his war hammer. "This one is not meant for a cage..." He stopped in front of a door and waved his hammer ominously at me, "The Hierarchs have something _Special_ in mind."

The door opened as the two Brutes hauled me onto a platform, which took us down to a wide and tall circular room. There were countless numbers of sarcophagi that seemed to stack high into the heavens among the walls, and a large oval shaped structure hovering in the center. The Brutes dragged me over to the center, where two of our Prophets awaited.

"Noble Prophets of Truth and Mercy," The three brutes sank to their knees. Even with all their might, the Prophets proved to be greater beings to them, "I have brought the incompetent one."

"You may leave, Tartaurus." Truth's voice echoed through out the room.

"But...I though"

"And take your Brutes with you..."

I could hear Tartaurus mutter small curses at me at Truth's decision before finally instructing, "Release the Prisoner." They did, and immediately I fell to my knees, weakened by my shame and pain. The two Brutes that carried me left first and then Tartaurus after them, cursing me under his breath.

"The High Council has decided," Truth's powerful voice caught my attention again, once the Brute Chieftain had left, "That you are to be hung by your entrails and your corpse displayed throughout High Charity." It sounded like a fitting death for a heretic like me, "But ultimately, the methods of your execution are up to me."

It didn't really matter to me. As far as I was concerned, the most I could be now was fodder for the Hunters. "I am already dead."

"Quite so..." That wasn't exactly what I would call a moral boost. "Tell me, do you know where we are?"

Of course I knew. The countless Sarcophagi practically gave it away. "The Mausoleum of the Arbiter."

"Indeed. In the many times of Crisis we have faced, the Arbiter, Holy Martyrs made in secrecy, were summoned to aid us."

"The taming of the Hunters!" Mercy began listing the accomplishments of our spiritual warriors, "The Grunt rebellion! If it were not for the Arbiters, this Covenant would've broken **_long_** ago!"

"Even on my knees, I'm not worthy in their presence." I replied to all this.

"You should not take the blame as you are." Truth reassured me, "The Council was..." He waved his thin hand in the air as if to grab the appropriate word, "Overzealous. We know you are no heretic. _This_, " he projected a hologram on his throne, "Is the true face of Heresy." And he played it.

((Our prophets are false!)) The Elite that the Hologram visualized, ((Open your eyes, my brothers! The Prophets would sacrifice us all for nothing! The Great Journey is a)) Then Truth stopped it.

"This heretic, and his followers, **_must_** be silenced!"

Easier said than done, "But how? I can no longer command ships...lead troops into battle..."

"Not as you are...but become the Arbiter..." he ordered as he pressed another button, "And you shall rise up to this heresy with our blessing." As he finished, the egg shaped structure in the middle lowered down beside the Prophets and opened. Inside was the most glorious armor I had ever seen. But one didn't become Arbiter without such approval.

"What of the council?"

"The tasks you must undertake as the Arbiter are perilous! Suicidal! You will die as each Arbiter has before you. The Council will have their corpse." Mercy reassured me of my grim fate.

_Why not?_ I thought_. I have nothing left to lose._ I approached the brilliant armor and donned my head with its gracing helm. "What will you have your Arbiter do?" And my destiny was sealed.


End file.
